Storybrooke's Cowgirl
by madeleinejoy9726
Summary: Marley Wilde is missing. Shiloh leaves her comfort zone in search of him, in search of a resting place, in search of magic. Storybrooke gets a new visitor. And Gold, as usual, has a paw in every pie. Chapter 1 - Shiloh remembered the day well: the day Marley disappeared.


Shiloh remembered the day clearly - the day Marley disappeared.

It was beginning to get cool at last. Fall was one of the few things that could draw a smile from Shiloh. In Houston, fall didn't have much to boast about, but any break from the 100+ Fahrenheit weather was more than welcome.

The trees in the planters on the sidewalk were mellowing out into a gorgeous cacophony of reds and yellows and browns, all warm colors, all joyous. Shiloh went to the mail slot and found a lopsided bouquet of daisies, crushed and sad. Sam, the little boy who lived across the hall, held an almost frightening fascination with Shiloh. She found daisies shoved through the mail slot almost every morning. He picked them up on the way home from daycare and dropped them through the slot in the evenings; it was a wonder his route home had any daisies left at all.

Because of the lovely weather, Shiloh settled near the window with her laptop and two pieces of toast. She was never a big breakfast eater, but here she was, same as every morning. Some things never change. Toast every morning. Daisies every morning. And just like every other morning, Shiloh was alone.

She checked the news on her laptop while she ate, watched a lone praying mantis crawl across the screen. She felt a twisted kinship with the bug. Big city. Big sky. Predators around every corner, and yet, we always find a place to sit safe, at least for a moment.

Then she saw the leaf.

There was nothing remarkable about it, really; it had a shriveled stem and wiry veins spreading throughout it. It was a little bit damp, a rather ugly brown-orange color, caught between the window screen and the glass. Shiloh worked her fingers around the screen and retrieved the leaf into the apartment. It brought to mind one of Marley's more profound statements.

"Shiloh, you know how people are always going on and on about how beautiful fall is and the changing of the leaves and the gorgeous colors and all that?"

Yes, Shiloh knew very well. She happened to be one of those people, and Marley knew it.

"I don't think the leaves feel the same way. They're dying. This is basically the leaf version of an airborne virus." He shook a yellowed leaf at her. "Like an epidemic or something. It's like a...it's like...a _leaf apocalypse_. And it happens every year."

At the time, it was funny. Shiloh had made a joke about the Leaf Hero and how he must find a vaccine so that the leaves can grow again next year. The Leaf Apocalypse was something that made them laugh every time they saw a tree for about the next three weeks, and there were a lot of trees in Houston.

Remembering this, Shiloh smiled. Marley was another one of the rare things that could draw such an expression forth from Shiloh. She decided to pay him a visit. She hadn't seen him in a couple of days.

Marley was an engineering student, but only in the loosest term of the word. All too often, he would follow the inkling of an idea off into the sunset and ditch school. And so it was that he had attended the actual college only about 30 days in total over the course of the last two years. When Marley found a project, he chased it. He did not stop for classes, for food, for sleep, or human company. Shiloh doubted he even knew the location of his bed anymore; it was probably serving as an extra desk.

Knowing he had probably skipped breakfast, she grabbed a couple of apples from the crisper. Honey-hued and shiny, they weighed cool and heavy against her palms as she walked to the elevator at the end of the hall.

It was empty. Shiloh checked her watch: 7 am. Strange that she was the only one in the elevator. There were at least five people in the building that she knew of who should be headed out to work or breakfast right about now. But she shrugged it off.

On the top floor, the door to Marley's apartment was ajar, as always. He never locked it. He always said his fists were weapon enough to protect him. Marley was always home. Marley was never afraid. Shiloh walked in without knocking and called out to him.

"Marley!"

No answer. He was likely asleep at his desk or the counter or the floor or wherever his latest project was based. Shiloh walked through the apartment slowly, reveling in its familiarity. She knew Marley's apartment almost better than she knew her own. The chipped tile floors, the ballpoint pen notes scrawled straight onto the bare walls, the smell of pizza and dryer sheets. Marley was an eccentric in every sense of the word.

But she made her way through the living room, the cluttered kitchen, the bedroom - no Marley.

Was it possible that Marley had decided to go to school today? Shiloh circled back around to the living room, where his class schedule, dirty and dogeared, was held to the wall with a strip of packing tape. Friday. No classes until 11 am today and 9 pm this evening.

Could he be out getting supplies for his next project? Breakfast? Shiloh knew she was rationalizing. If Marley needed supplies, he sent her to get them. If he needed breakfast, he sent her to get it. He didn't like to go out in the middle of a project, and yes, there - on the coffee table. A half-assembled motor or engine of some sort. Marley did not get up and leave.

Shiloh checked around the door for signs of a scuffle, muddy footprints, locks of hair, anything. But the doorway was the same as it had always been; dusty. Chipped tiles. A door that had pen markings on it from when Marley was measuring the growth of his cat. If someone had taken him, they had done a good job hiding it.

Shiloh heard a _thump, thump, _the sound of something rolling. The Honeycrisp apples had dropped from her limp hands to the floor, where they spiraled around a bit before settling in the grooves of the tile, lost and lonely.


End file.
